In the Dreaming
by Regina the Queen of Random
Summary: Amara is struck down by a mysterious illness, and with her condition worsening all the time, the X-Men turn to an unlikely ally for help. [Complete]
1. With Sleep comes Dreams

**Regina:** Well, it seems that you can't keep a writer chained to a specific number of stories. I am no exception. And now thanks to the new Amyro website I am building, that is pretty much one of the only things I have been thinking about. Yep, I am building an Amyro website, after discovering that there seems to be only one Amyro website out there - yet. Maybe I can start a trend, and have lots of Amyro websites everywhere. And there also only seems to be one site for Amara, too. That's absolutely shocking! There are a couple of Pyro websites, but a distinct lack of Amara and/or Amyro websites around. So that's why I'm building my own. I haven't put it up on the Internet yet, but give me a week or two and it should be up. The site itself is called 'Burning Souls', and it's a Yahoo! Geocities one. The ID is 'burningsoulsshrine' in case you're interested. I think I'll have the basis of the site up by the time I write the next bit of this story, but I want to see how this one goes first. So please review, as it makes me happy, and once my site is up, please go check it out!  
  
Oh, and to disclaim: I do not own X-Men: Evolution, the characters of Magma and Pyro, nor do I own anything else, like Yahoo! Geocities.  
  
And if you like Amyro, and as of now not read my other Amyro fic, please do - it's called 'Trial by Fire'.  
  
**In The Dreaming  
**  
_Chapter One: With Sleep Comes Dreams_  
  
_Her dress is red, the same colour as the hundreds of rose petals scattered on the ground beneath their feet.  
  
The many candles that are scattered around them in perfect formation light the area in which they are dancing, their flickering light changing from red to gold, highlighting the joy and love in the faces of the couple that is dancing, and mirroring the stars that sit high in the sky.  
  
She can feel his heart beating in his chest, as he holds her close, almost as if he is afraid to let her go.  
  
And his eyes are shadowed as he looks down into hers, and says, "You're late for school."  
  
She almost stumbles with surprise, disturbing the rhythm of their dance. "What?"  
  
"You're late for school," he repeats, before he lets go of her hand, and walks away, and disappears into the shadows.  
  
Amara opened her eyes to find Tabitha shaking her roughly. "Wake up, sleepy," she said, still shaking her, "you're late for school."  
  
"Huh?" Amara rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "What did you say?"  
  
"I said, you're late for school."_

X X X  
  
The reality of this hit Amara full force, and she leapt out of bed. She ran around the room, getting ready at top speed.  
  
Tabitha watched this, the amusement she was feeling showing clearly on her face. "Didn't your alarm go off or something?"  
  
Amara looked at her clock. "Looks like it did."  
  
"Then why are you late?"  
  
Amara continued on her quest to get ready. "I guess I was dreaming."  
  
"That's the third time this week," commented Tabitha.  
  
"That I've been dreaming?" asked Amara. "How do you know that?"  
  
Tabitha shook her head. "Not dreaming. Sleeping in. I had to shake you to wake you up today. What's up, girl?"  
  
Amara yawned, then said, "Just tired, I guess."  
  
Tabitha looked at her squarely. "What time did you go to bed last night?"  
  
Amara yawned again, louder this time. "Eight. Why?"  
  
"You just seem so tired, as if you've been up all night."  
  
Amara finally stopped racing around her room. "Well, you're wrong. As soon as I get into bed, I'm out like a light, and don't wake up until the next morning."  
  
"Sorry. Didn't mean to upset you, princess."  
  
"That wasn't funny." Amara emphasised her point with yet another yawn, the loudest one so far. "Don't even do it again."  
  
Tabitha, grinning, replied with, "I promise. Scout's honour." She held her hand up in the familiar sign. "Come on," she added, grabbing her school bag, which she had left slung on the back of a chair. "We're gonna be late for school!"  
  
The girls ran out of the room together, Amara rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

X X X  
  
_Her dress is white this time.  
  
The setting sun paints the ocean with beautiful reds and golds, and it does the same to the sand.  
  
The sand feels warm beneath her bare feet, as they walk hand in hand along its length.  
  
They are alone, and that is just the way she likes it.  
  
Especially when he bends his head to. . ._

X X X

"Amara Aquilla! Wake up!"  
  
Amara's eyes snapped open. "Huh?" She lifted her head to see that she was in English class, and all the students were staring at her, as well as the teacher. She was less than pleased.  
  
"It's nice to see you're paying attention, Miss Aquilla. I hope I wasn't interrupting your rest. I'm sure Mr Shakespeare doesn't mind, either."  
  
The class tittered with laughter. The teacher glared at them. "All right, you lot, that's enough." She turned back to Amara. "This seems to be becoming a habit. I heard that you fell asleep yesterday in Mr Johnson's class, as well."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"I'm sorry isn't good enough, Miss Aquilla." The teacher's voice was cold. "I'm afraid I am going to have to send you to the principal."  
  
If Amara was not completely awake before, the mention of the name would have done it perfectly. "Principal Kelly?"  
  
"I'm afraid so. Go now, Miss Aquilla. And don't fall asleep on the way."  
  
Amara picked up her bag and headed off, the laughter of her classmates echoing behind her.  
  
X X X

"She sent you to Kelly?" Kitty asked that evening.  
  
Amara nodded, but said nothing.  
  
Kurt winced. "Sorry. No one deserves that."  
  
"Except maybe Duncan Matthews," interrupted Tabitha. Heads nodded around the room, until Amara yawned - again.  
  
"Why have you been falling asleep?" asked Scott, reminded of the original discussion by the yawn.  
  
Amara shrugged her shoulders. "Don't know."  
  
"It could be a sign of illness," suggested Hank, coming into the room. "What other symptoms have you been experiencing?"  
  
Tabitha eyed him suspiciously. "Since when have you been a doctor?"  
  
Hank grinned, showing pointed fangs. "I might surprise you."  
  
"Nothing else has been happening," replied Amara, in response to Hank's question.  
  
"Nothing?"  
  
"Well. . ." Amara trailed off, embarrassed.  
  
"What?" prodded Jean, who was sitting next to Scott.  
  
"I've been having these really strange dreams. Really vivid ones," Amara added.  
  
"Hm." Hank stroked his chin, thinking.  
  
"Why do people do that when they're thinking?" whispered Bobby to Kurt. Kurt shrugged his shoulders. Hank ignored this.  
  
"How vivid?" he asked finally.  
  
"They seem realer than all this," Amara said simply, gesturing to the room and everything in it. "The dreams are beautiful: full of colour, and sound. . . everything. And when I wake up. . . it's all dark, and boring. I just want to go back to sleep as soon as I wake up."  
  
"Interesting," commented Hank. "What else do you remember about these dreams?"  
  
"What else?" asked Amara, surprised, although it should have been obvious that a question like that would be asked. "Nothing," she replied. The hint of red in her cheeks suggested otherwise.  
  
"All right, Amara," Hank said, after a moments pause. "I'm afraid we cannot do more for you, except to tell you to try and get more sleep."  
  
Amara looked up at the clock on the wall behind Hank. "Well, it's half past seven now, so I guess I might go to bed now." Getting up from her chair, she bade her friends goodnight. "'Night, guys. See you in the morning."  
  
She yawned again, before heading off to her room, where the darkness of sleep overtook her the moment she closed her eyes.  
  
X X X

_He is there, waiting for her, as he always is, waiting for her to fall asleep, so they can be together.  
  
"My love," he whispers to her as he enfolds her into his arms.  
  
Eventually he lets go, and she can look up into his face, so alight with love and happiness.  
  
She smiles when she saw the sun begin to set, the colours it sends out over the land shining across his face, making it even more handsome than before. And painting his hair the colour of the fire that drew them together.  
  
After some time he kisses her, and it drives all thoughts out of her mind, save one.  
  
And that was him.  
  
Finally she gets the chance to breath, and she whispers the name of her secret love, so softly that only he can hear it.  
  
"John." _


	2. Promises

**Regina:** Well, I managed to do it, even though I've been ill with a cold, and been falling asleep at the most inopportune moments (hey, maybe that means Aaron Stanford will be showing up at my place sometime soon. I wish!), but I managed to write the next chapter for In The Dreaming. I also came up with an idea for another story. It's about Freddy. . . and his cat. Okay, I think the blurb would go something like this: "There's something not quite right about Freddy's pet cat. Something all too. . . mutant." But that will be saved for another day.  
  
On another note, the basis for my Amyro shrine, Burning Souls, has been completed. It has bios, a few links, plus a few fanfics. The image gallery is still being constructed, but that's about it really. Oh, and I would like to have fan works be contributed. I know there must be a few Amyro shippers who would like to submit links to fanfics. And I know I need help with the old fanart department, as I can't draw for peanuts. Or, as I am fond of saying, "I can't draw for peanuts, I can't even draw peanuts!" But a few days ago, someone at SOOP (the Spasticated Order of People) was kind enough to draw me a peanut. But that was dismissed when the idea that SOOP create its own original Manga. Again, I was of little help to the drawing department. I did offer to help them write it, though.  
  
Anywho, please go visit my site. I know there are a few of you who said that would (Amara Allerdyce, I'm looking at you here! Same, A.P.R!), and it would make me happy if you would. It's If you forget it, you can always find it in my bio on Fanfiction.net.  
  
But on with the story. Oh, and I don't own anything mentioned in this story or the introduction. That includes Aaron Stanford. Darn it.  
  
**In The Dreaming  
**  
_Chapter Two: Promises_  
  
The next day was no different for Amara. She woke up late again, having been dragged from her dream, only to find that she was even more tired than when she had gone to sleep. It was as if she had spent the entire night dancing, much like a fairy tale she half remembered.  
  
But life had to go on. She was awake now, and that meant she had to face reality, not the dream world she had been visiting every time she closed her eyes.  
  
"Hey, Amara," asked Scott from the front seat of his car, having offered her and Tabitha a lift to school. "You awake back there?"  
  
Tabitha made a few fake snoring noises, while Amara replied, "No." She turned her head back to the direction she had been looking blankly at, remembering last night's dream, before Scott had interrupted her thoughts.  
  
"All right, then," Scott said, pulling up in front of Bayville High. "Everybody out." He turned back to face Amara. "Try and stay awake today, Amara."  
  
"That shouldn't be too hard," Tabitha answered instead of Amara. "We're not catching a lift with someone as boring and straight-laced as you for the rest of the day." Amara giggled.  
  
Scott looked insulted. "Hey!"  
  
Amara shrugged her shoulders, before picking up her backpack. "Sorry," she said, before turning and following Tabitha into the school building.

X X X  
  
_"Amara," whispers a voice.  
  
"I'm here," Amara whispers back. "Where are you? I can't see you?"  
  
"You don't need to see me, my love," the voice whispers back, and with a shiver she recognises it as John's. "I am here, wherever you are."  
  
"But I want to see you!" Amara replies.  
  
"Patience, my love. Soon we will be together."  
  
"Together." How lovely that word sounds to Amara as she repeats it.  
  
"Together," agrees John's voice. "Forever."  
_  
X X X

"You fell asleep again, didn't you?"  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"The drool on your chin," replied Tabitha smugly. Automatically Amara reached to wipe it off. "Seriously, though," continued Tabitha, and her voice did take on a serious tone, "what's up with all this sleeping. It's not normal. Even for people like us."  
  
"You're telling me," replied Amara. "But I don't know what is doing it. It's as if the more I sleep, the more tired I get."  
  
"Now that's just weird," commented Tabitha.  
  
"You can say that again,' Amara mumbled.  
  
"Now that's just weird."  
  
"You're not helping, Tabitha."  
  
"Sorry. Hey!" Tabitha was just struck by an idea. "Maybe you should talk to the Professor about it!"  
  
Amara shot Tabitha a look. "Good idea," she said sarcastically. "And maybe I'll find my soul mate next week."  
  
Tabitha shrugged her shoulders. "You never know. He could be right around the corner." She looked around, making fun of the idea.  
  
"In your dreams," Amara said sarcastically.  
  
"Or in yours," Tabitha's voice was more serious than that of her friend's.  
  
X X X

_"You know that I love you."  
  
"Then why can't we be together?" Amara's voice is almost demanding.  
  
"Soon!" he replies instantly, his voice filled with longing. "Soon. But not right now."  
  
"I hate this."  
  
He reaches out, and places a hand under her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his. "I know, love. It's killing me, too. But this is how it has to be."  
  
"I know," she whispers sadly. "I just wish -"  
  
He cuts her off there. "Trust me," he whispers. "We'll be together soon. I promise."  
  
_ X X X

"Stupid alarm clock," muttered Amara, covering her head with a pillow as she groaned. She didn't want to get up. Not just yet anyway.  
  
She wanted to go back to sleep. She had had another one of those strange dreams. The one where she was with this man she did not know, but had a feeling she ought to.  
  
"Maybe it's part of a bigger picture," she groaned, finally throwing back the covers to get out of bed. "Or maybe it's just my head playing tricks on me."  
  
Like a zombie, Amara got dressed, and ready for school. Everything seemed to be a bit blurry around the edges, like she had not got enough sleep, and was blinking way too often.  
  
But that was the thing. Amara knew that she had had enough sleep. She had gone out like a light at 8:30, and had woken up at 7:15. That was - Amara struggled to do the calculations (was she really that tired? she wondered) - ten hours and forty-five minutes.  
  
That was far more than the usual eight hours.  
  
And Amara had been sleeping at least that same amount every night.  
  
That was not even counting the times when she had fallen asleep during the day.  
  
What was wrong with her?

X X X

"Hey, Tabitha," Amara said sleepily as she walked into class.  
  
"Think you can stay awake today?" Tabitha replied with a grin.  
  
Amara shrugged her shoulders.  
  
"Don't blame you," said Tabitha. "This class can be a snore-fest, even when you aren't tired."  
  
Again Amara only shrugged her shoulders. Talking used up precious energy that could be used for staying awake.  
  
Instead she sat down, and, for the first time in ages, did not even feel the slightest need to fall asleep.  
  
X X X

"Well, she did it," Tabitha said proudly, when she and Amara had met up with the other students from the Xavier Institute at lunch. "Managed a whole class without nodding off."  
  
"You must be getting better, then," said Jean. "That's good."  
  
"How can you be sure that she was ill?" retorted Tabitha, as if it were her that Jean had insulted, if she had indeed done so to Amara.  
  
"It's okay, Tabitha," said Amara. "Everything's going to be fine. You'll see."  
  
Just then, a wave of tiredness filled Amara's body, and darkness swept over her vision.  
  
She lost the ability to stand up straight, and began to crumble.  
  
"Amara? Amara!"  
  
She could not hear them, as she was asleep before she hit the ground.

X X X  
  
_But in her dreams, she never does hit the ground, as she is caught by the loving arms of John, who has been waiting for her.  
  
"See, my love?" he asks, as she looks up, lost, into his eyes. "I promised that we would be together, and I have made it happen. And we shall be together. Forever."  
  
Amara only smiles, before he leans down and kisses her. _


	3. Trapped

**Regina:** I've done it again. Another chapter to one of my X-Men: Evolution stories. Sorry it took me so long to do this. I have managed to complete both Trial by Fire (my other Amyro fic) and Role Reversal (the fic where the X-Men and company all meet themselves from another dimension, but the catch is that they're of the opposite gender. Hilarity ensued), and have begun the sequel to Role Reversal, called Rome Reversal. I have also remembered that I have to write another chapter (or more) for Beauty and the Beast. I almost forgot that I have a wedding to plan! Aren't I forgetful?  
  
Anyway, next chapter for In the Dreaming. Please review, visit my Amyro shrine, Burning Souls, I own nothing, yada yada yada.  
  
**In The Dreaming  
**  
_Chapter Three: Trapped  
_  
"What the-"  
  
That was the responce Logan made when every one of the Institute's students who currently attended Bayville High burst through the front doors of the Institute.  
  
Then he saw Amara, carried in by Scott.  
  
"What happened?!" he demanded, running to the unconscious girl.  
  
"We don't know!" replied Kitty. "She won't wake up!"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"She just - collapsed!"  
  
"What do you mean?!" asked Logan, taking Amara's limp form from Scott.  
  
"One minute she was fine and talking, and then she just fell over," replied Tabitha. "And she hasn't woken up," she added, the concern in her voice growing with each word.  
  
"One of you go get the Prof." ordered Logan.  
  
"On it!" replied Kurt instantly, and before anyone could say anything, he teleported, disappearing in a puff of smoke.  
  
"Now what?"  
  
"Let's get her to the infirmary," ordered Logan without hesitation. "Hank and Chuck will know what to do." He began walking away in the direction of the infirmary, the students following in his wake.

X X X

_"Something's not right."  
  
"What do you mean?" John's voice asks.  
  
"I just get this feeling," Amara replies. "I mean, I hardly know you."  
  
John's laughter floats through the air. "But that didn't stop you."  
  
Amara cannot help but smile. "No, it didn't."  
  
John grasps her hand. "Come, my love. Let's dance!"  
  
Amara does not refuse  
_  
X X X  
  
Hank stood up suddenly when Logan, an unconscious Amara in his arms, and the crowd of students came crashing into the infirmary.  
  
"What happened?" he asked, his glasses askew.  
  
"We were hoping you might be able to tell us," replied Logan.  
  
"What happened?" Hank asked again, wanting a clearer answer.  
  
"She just collapsed at school," replied Tabitha.  
  
"Is this because of her sleeping problem?" said Hank.  
  
Kitty shrugged her shoulders. "We thought she was getting better."  
  
"She was all right during class," added Tabitha. "But then this happened!".  
  
"Put her on the bed," Hank ordered. Logan did so. "Does Professor Xavier know about this?"  
  
"The elf went to get him," replied Logan.  
  
"Good." Straightening his glasses, Hank began to examine Amara. It was a very brief examination, as Hank had barely looked at her when he said, "There seems to be nothing wrong with her, except she's fast asleep."  
  
"What is wrong here?" asked a voice. Everyone turned around to see that Xavier had arrived, Ororo and Kurt at his side.  
  
"It's Amara, Professor," replied Scott. "Something's happened."  
  
"Indeed," replied Xavier, showing no sign of panic.  
  
"She just collapsed at school, for no reason!"  
  
"There is always a reason for things like this, Tabitha," Xavier replied, still sounding calm. "We just need to find out what has caused this."  
  
"It's her illness, Professor," explained Kitty. "She's been so tired, and now she just can't take it."  
  
Hank looked thoughtful. "That could be a possible explanation. What do you think, Professor?"  
  
"We cannot discard any possibility," replied Xavier. "What do you think it is, Hank?"  
  
"There seems to be nothing wrong, physically, at least. But that's what concerns me even more. It may not be a physical problem, but a mental or maybe even psychological issue. And you have more experience with that."  
  
"Then what do we do?" asked Jean.  
  
"I don't think there is anything we can do. Yet."  
  
X X X  
  
_Amara is oblivious to the concern of her friends.  
  
All she knows is the warmth and love that John gives her, and that is all she cares about.  
  
He is all she needs, and she is all he needs in return.  
  
She closes her eyes when she feels his hand lightly brush her cheek, almost as if he is in awe of her, and unsure whether she is real.  
  
"What?" she asks, finally, wondering what he is thinking.  
  
He meets her eyes. "Nothing."  
  
"What?" she repeats, wanting to know. "What are you thinking about?"  
  
He smiles, almost shyly. "The thing I've been thinking about all the time since I first saw it."  
  
Amara returns his smile. "And that thing is?" she asks, even though she knows what he is talking about.  
  
He smiles even wider. "You," he says simply, gently fingering a strand of her long dark hair.  
  
Something flickers through her mind. Unsure of what it is, she follows the elusive thought, finally capturing it. "How did we meet?"  
  
"What does that matter?" asks John, taking her hand.  
  
She removes it from his grasp. She has to know. "How did we get here? How long have I been here?"  
  
John shrugs his shoulders still smiling. "Why should that matter to us? We have everything we need right here. That is what you wanted, right, love?"  
  
"Yes," she begins, but he cuts her off there.  
  
"Then what's wrong? I'm here, you're here, and nothing can separate us. We will be together. Forever."  
_  
X X X

"Sorry, girl. I wish I could help you, but. . ."  
  
"Tabitha? Are you still down here?"  
  
Tabitha spun around on the chair she was sitting on next to Amara's bed in the infirmary. She looked at the clock. 10:18. Had the time gone by that fast?  
  
Tabitha had been sitting next to her friend since 4:30, when Hank and Xavier had completed their examination of Amara, and had determined that there was nothing wrong with her. Physically, at least. They had gone off to discuss their theories and conduct research on possible reasons for why Amara was this way.  
  
This meant nothing to Tabitha, of course. All she wanted was her friend to sit up and talk to her, reassure her that it was all over, and that she was all right.  
  
"Go to bed, Tabitha," said Ororo, walking over to Tabitha and the unconscious Amara. "You need to rest."  
  
"I know," replied Tabitha. "But I want to be here. She's my friend."  
  
"I know," said Ororo, placing a gentle hand on Tabitha's shoulder. "But you have to understand, there is nothing you can do for her right now. Tomorrow, when you're rested, you can come back and sit with Amara. Or you can help us try and find out what is wrong with Amara. We need all the help we can get. But you'll be of no use if you cannot stay awake."  
  
Tabitha's eyes moved to Amara lying on the bed, appearing to sleep peacefully. "She couldn't stay awake," she said blandly.  
  
"I know. Just go to bed soon, Tabitha."  
  
"Just a few minutes."

X X X  
  
_"John?" asks Amara, her voice tight with emotion - but not like the good things she has been feeling since she found herself in this strange place - "Tell me! I have a right to know!"  
  
"Know what? There is nothing here you need to know."  
  
Her blood runs cold. This is not how it is supposed to be!  
  
"John! What's happened to you?"  
  
"Nothing. I'm not even really here," John replies calmly.  
  
"But then - what about me?" she asks, almost frightened.  
  
"Oh, you're trapped here. This is your own mind, and I've been using it against you this whole time."  
  
"I'm trapped?!" He nods, still smiling. "There is no escape. So don't even bother trying."  
  
"So none of this was real?" she asks, almost pleading.  
  
"It was. For a time. But the real John has gone. And he's the only one who can help you. But the thing is, he thinks this is only a dream."  
  
And with that, 'John' transforms, becoming a blackness that threatens to engulf Amara.  
  
But it pauses before doing so.  
  
"No, I think I'll wait. You may be of some use yet, Amara. Goodbye."  
  
With that, the voice vanishes, leaving Amara alone in the darkness of her own mind, a prisoner for all eternity, a cold echo of her wish to be here with John forever.  
  
But she will not go without a fight. She still is Magma, after all, and has the power of fire with her in this battle.  
  
And like the thing that called itself John, she transforms.  
_  
X X X

"Sorry, Amara, but I've got to go. I'll be back in the morning though." Tabitha moved to get up, but hesitated, and gave her friend's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'll help you."  
  
Suddenly, Amara's lifeless hand grips Tabitha's, as if in fear. Surprised, Tabitha leapt back.  
  
"Amara?!" She reached out to touch Amara, but pulled back at the last minute.  
  
Milliseconds before Amara's body was consumed in fire.


	4. A Friend in Need

**Regina:** Sorry this has taken me a while, but I've had writer's block, and I have been revamping my Amyro website, Burning Souls. But I have managed to write this chapter (and another for Beauty and the Beast), so I hope you enjoy it.  
  
**In The Dreaming**  
  
_ Chapter Four: A Friend in Need_  
  
"Storm!" shouted Tabitha. "Storm!"  
  
Footsteps sounded, and soon Ororo was in the infirmary. Her blue eyes widened when she saw the scene in front of her. "What happened?"  
  
"I - I don't know!" replied Tabitha, her voice panicky. "All of a sudden - she did this!"  
  
Quickly, Ororo moved to the intercom system on the wall, and pressed a button. "X-Men to the infirmary, immediately. This is an emergency."  
  
"Ororo. . ." Tabitha's voice sounded even more panicked than before.  
  
"Tabitha?" asked Ororo. Then she turned around and saw what Tabitha was seeing.  
  
As Amara was in her fire form, she had set the bed on fire, and it had been burning when Ororo had arrived. Now the bed had been completely incinerated, and Amara was now lying - still asleep, and oblivious, it appeared, to the fact that she was completely on fire - on the floor, which Ororo guessed would not be able to withstand much more of the heat which Amara was giving off.  
  
Luckily, Jean was one of the first on the scene.  
  
"What happened?" she asked. Then, without saying anything more, she used her telekinesis to lift Amara off the floor, and into the air. Holding Amara there, she repeated, "What happened?"  
  
By this time Ororo had calmed Tabitha down a bit. "I was just about to go to bed," explained Tabitha, "when she just burst into flames."  
  
"That's all?" asked Jean, slightly bewildered.  
  
Tabitha nodded. "Honest."  
  
Just then the other residents of the Institute entered the room. "What?" was the general exclamation.  
  
Hank immediately took charge of the situation. Knowing that Jean would not be able to keep Amara suspended in the air indefinitely, he came up with a temporary solution to deal with Amara's flames. "Bobby. I need a block of ice, fifty centimetres in width, two metres in length and one metre high."  
  
"Right," replied Bobby, and quickly proceeded to make the block of ice to Hank's specifications.  
  
Once it was completed, Hank said to Jean, "Put her on that. It's only temporary, but it's the best we can do for now," he explained as Jean lowered Amara onto the block of ice, which began to melt quite quickly.  
  
"Now what do we do?" asked Scott, eyeing the puddle that was forming as the ice melted.  
  
"We will need to come up with a more permanent solution to deal with this problem," said Xavier, moving his wheelchair forward.  
  
"And that is?" asked Ray.  
  
"I'll explain."  
  
X X X  
  
Xavier's solution was this. While they built a 'bed' of sorts, made of metal with a hollow centre, with a small hole for Bobby to fill it with ice, Bobby filled a bath with ice, and Jean placed Amara in it. As the ice would melt, Bobby would add more ice.  
  
Once the 'bed' with the ice centre was made, Amara was placed on it. As she continued to burn, the ice inside would melt, keeping the 'bed' itself relatively cool. When the ice had melted, and the 'bed' was starting to overheat, Bobby would be called in to refreeze the ice, and the process would begin all over again.  
  
"So now what do we do?" asked Tabitha, who had watched all of this with a withdrawn and fearful look on her face. She had her arms wrapped around herself, as if she was cold.  
  
"I honestly don't know," Xavier said wearily.  
  
"You don't know? You're supposed to know! That's why we're here, isn't it?!" demanded Tabitha.  
  
"Tabitha," said Ororo gently. "You mustn't blame him. It's not his fault that Amara is like this, and he's doing his best."  
  
This did not make any difference to Tabitha. "Well it's not good enough! You always just stand by and watch! You never want to get your hands dirty! You don't ever go out of your way to stop something from happening! And now Amara is like this, and you're not doing anything!"  
  
"Tabitha," began Ororo, but she was cut off by Xavier.  
  
"No, Ororo," he said, "she's right. But we have to help Amara. Each in our own way."  
  
"Whatever," muttered Tabitha. "I'm not hanging around." She began to walk off.  
  
"Where are you going to go?' asked Ororo.  
  
"Anywhere. I don't care," Tabitha shot back. "But I'm going to try and find something to help Amara."  
  
The door slammed shut behind her.  
  
X X X  
  
Tabitha did not react with her usual energy at the sight of the trash can exploding. She barely registered the fact that garbage was flying everywhere, and it was because of her.  
  
The same thing had happened to the second can.  
  
And the third.  
  
And the fourth.  
  
All the way up to this one, which was number seven.  
  
"What can I do?" she asked herself. "I have to do something. But what?"  
  
The sight of a jeep gave Tabitha an idea.  
  
X X X  
  
Meanwhile, Xavier was putting into action his own plan.  
  
He suspected that it was something in Amara's mind that was doing this to her, keeping her trapped in this state of sleep.  
  
He hoped it wasn't permanent.  
  
But he could only determine that by delving into the depths of Amara's mind.  
  
Reaching out with a tendril of thought, he called her name. "Amara. Where are you? Can you hear me?"  
  
For a moment, Xavier thought he could see Amara standing in front of him, as if she was trapped in a glass box, and was banging on the invisible walls that surrounded her. Then, without warning, a wall of flames roared up between Xavier and Amara, blocking her from his view.  
  
"Amara!" he shouted, as he lost sight of her. "Amara!"  
  
But it was too late. She was gone.  
  
X X X  
  
"Tabitha!"  
  
Tabitha ignored Lance's shouts, as she was focused entirely on what she was doing.  
  
Todd cringed as Tabitha slammed him into the wall for the third time.  
  
"Tell me!" she hissed, forming an explosive in her hands. "Or else I force- feed you this!"  
  
"Do something!" shouted Todd, not wanting to die from eating an explosive. "I don't wanna die!"  
  
"You won't!" yelled Lance. "What's wrong, Tabitha?!"  
  
"Amara's sick - maybe dying - and I need help!" Tabitha shouted, not letting go of Todd, who closed his eyes, wanting his end to be swift and painless.  
  
"What?" asked Freddy.  
  
"What's wrong with Amara?" added Lance.  
  
"She's asleep, and won't wake up, and now she's on fire, and none of us can touch her!" By this time tears had leaked from Tabitha's eyes. "I don't know what else to do!"  
  
"Blowing up Todd is not the answer!"  
  
"Then what? Help me then!"  
  
"We can't," began Pietro.  
  
"Then what can I do?!"  
  
"Let him go," said Pietro cautiously, "because I think I know someone who can help you." 


	5. Fevered Thoughts

**Regina:** Here it is, another chapter of In the Dreaming for you, the reader. Now be good readers, and after reading this chapter review it. Good readers. Sit, read, review. Now just read this chapter and remember, that although it may seem like fun and a way to solve your problems, do not force-feed people explosives, no matter how annoying they are. And also remember: Hugs, not drugs.  
  
This chapter was brought to you by the letter X.  
  
**In The Dreaming  
**  
_Chapter Five: Fevered Thoughts_  
  
Slowly, reluctantly, Tabitha let go of Todd. Although it may have made her feel better for a short time, blowing up Todd was not the answer.  
  
Before Tabitha could change her mind on her decision to let Todd go, Todd slipped out from in front of her, and hid behind Freddy, peering out at Tabitha nervously every few seconds, before retreating behind the large shield that was his friend.  
  
"All right," Tabitha said finally, turning to face Pietro. "Who is this person who can help you?"  
  
Pietro took a step back. "Well," he said, hesitating. "I'm not sure if you're gonna like this person."  
  
Tabitha formed another boomer in her hand. "Can this person help Amara?"  
  
"I guess," replied Pietro nervously.  
  
The boomer grew in size. "You guess?" asked Tabitha, her voice low and dangerous.  
  
Pietro raised his hands defensively. "This guy deals in fire, okay? He's a - friend - of mine."  
  
The boomer disappeared. "All right," Tabitha said finally. "But you had better be right about him."  
  
"Don't worry," Pietro replied, trying to sound confident. He was failing miserably.  
  
"Good. You have two hours," Tabitha warned him. "If he's not here by then, I will hunt you down and. . ."  
  
". . . and what?" asked Pietro, his voice squeaking slightly.  
  
Tabitha smiled coldly. "I'll leave that up to your imagination."  
  
Pietro swallowed, then ran out of the room faster than the eye could see.  
  
X X X  
  
_He had a killer of a headache.  
  
Rubbing his temples, he tried to get the images out of his mind. He knew that they had just been hallucinations caused by the fever he had just had, but could not forget them.  
  
One of the images flashed into his mind again. A girl. She was dancing.  
  
Just as quickly it was gone, and for some reason he was sad.  
  
Stupid flu, he thought to himself.  
  
It had put him in bed for the last week, and he had been sleeping hours on end for a while before that.  
  
Lightning pain lanced through his brain, causing him to drop his lighter. He swore as the pain subsided and picked up the lighter.  
  
He had thought he had gotten over the flu.  
  
But these headaches were something else entirely.  
  
It was as if something - or somebody - was in his brain, and was clawing its way out. That was how painful the headaches were. Sometimes images came with the pain. Like the one he had just had. The girl was back, and she was crying.  
  
The pain was getting worse. He fumbled around for where he had put the painkillers. One hand attached to his temple, he searched with the other. Finally, he found them. He swore again. The box was empty.  
  
He had only bought them the week before. He could not have gone through all those little white pills in so short a time.  
  
Could he?  
  
He fell to his knees as the pain returned. He bit his lip as it tore him apart. His eyes squeezed shut, he willed the pain to stop.  
  
But it did not.  
  
He stayed there on the floor for what seemed like an eternity, holding his head as the girl screamed._  
  
X X X  
  
The world stopped flying past him as Pietro came to stop. He was here. At Magneto's base. He hadn't been there too many times, even though Magneto was his father. Perhaps that was the reason.  
  
But he was not here to see his father. There was someone else he was looking for.  
  
"Hey, Pyro," he called, using his friend's mutant name. "You in here?" When he got no reply, he resorted to using his friend's given name. "John? Hello?" As John was the only one of Magneto's new group of mutants his own age, he was the only one that he had formed some kind of friendship with. John was also the only one Pietro did not call by his mutant name (except when Magneto was around. Then it was just Pyro).  
  
The sound of a groan reached Pietro. Following the sound, it led him to John's room. There, on the floor, was John, clutching his head in pain.  
  
In the blink of an eye, Pietro was on the floor next to John. "What's the matter?"  
  
John looked up. "My. . . head," he managed to get out through gritted teeth. "It's killing. . . me. . . won't stop."  
  
Pietro helped him up. "You done anything about it?" he asked, noting the sweat running down John's forehead.  
  
Weakly, John gestured to the box of painkillers on the floor, but he said nothing.  
  
A false smile on his face Pietro helped John to the door, and out of the building. "We're gonna get you some help, okay?"  
  
John nodded, his eyes bright as if with fever. Pietro knew that John had been sick recently, but had thought John had gotten over it. Must've been wrong, he thought to himself.  
  
He was worried about all this was going on, although he did not let John see it as he helped him into one of the cars that Magneto kept around for his minions to use, same with a few motorcycles.  
  
As Pietro started the car's engine, and John seemed to go to sleep, Pietro wondered to himself what the chances were that two mutants, whose powers both were fire - granted, in different forms, but still fire nonetheless - could fall so seriously ill within such a short time, and for it not related.  
  
He kept coming to the same conclusion every time he tried to work it out.  
  
This was no coincidence. The two events were related.  
  
Pietro just didn't know how.  
  
X X X  
  
For two hours Tabitha had waited restlessly, pacing around the living room of the Brotherhood's house. As the minutes had ticked by, she had become more and more nervous that Pietro would not be able to find his friend, who would in turn be able to help Amara. The Brotherhood were no help, either. Todd was too frightened of her to do anything constructive, and Freddy, well, Freddy still wouldn't have been much of a help, except if she wanted something to eat. Lance might have been helpful, but he was unsure of what to say or do, and he did not want a repeat of the attack on Todd happening to him, and Wanda, well, she had only come out of her room once, and that was just after Tabitha had let go of Todd and Pietro had left. When Wanda had discovered that Tabitha had come close to causing Todd some serious damage, but had not, she demanded why Tabitha had not finished the job, and then left to return to her room where she had remained for the following two hours, leaving Todd to sigh after the woman he loved. And the Brotherhood once again had to convince Todd that when a woman says to a man, "I despise you and I want to see you die a painful death" was not a declaration of love. Todd still did not get the message, even though Tabitha had joined in this time.  
  
Tabitha's mood picked up at the sound of a car pulling up in the Brotherhood's driveway. She and the Brotherhood members, including Wanda, who had emerged from her room at the sound of the car, ran out to find Pietro sitting in the car, and unconscious teen in the passenger's seat.  
  
Wanda was the first to speak. "What is he doing here?"  
  
"You know him?" Tabitha asked.  
  
"He's one of Magneto's crew," said Lance, his voice annoyed.  
  
Tabitha rounded on Pietro. "You brought one of Magneto's mutants to help one of Professor Xavier's students? Is there something wrong with you?"  
  
"Look," said Pietro, getting out of the car. "You wanted someone who could help, and I brought someone. That was the deal."  
  
"He's unconscious," Freddy said suddenly.  
  
"That was the problem," Pietro said. "I got there, and he was sick. He fell asleep in the car on the way here."  
  
"Wait," said Todd, confused. "Both Amara and - and -" here Todd realised he didn't know the guy's name - "this guy are sick? And their powers are fire? That's more than a coincidence, yo."  
  
"Well, I guess we're just going to have to take him to the Institute," Tabitha said finally, after a few moments of silence. "Who is this guy, anyway?" she asked, as she and Pietro got into the car.  
  
"Pyro, meet Tabitha Smith, also known as Boom Boom." Pietro started the engine. "Tabby, this is John Allerdyce, better known as Pyro."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Tabitha said warily, as she and Pietro drove off. To Pietro she said, "This had better work."  
  
"You don't know how much I want this to work." 


	6. Lost in Darkness

**Regina:** Lucky you. You now have another chapter of In the Dreaming to read. Sorry it has taken me so long to do this, it was the usual excuses: writer's block, school, wanting to make music videos but having the frustration of not having any clips - pretty much just life getting in the way. Stupid life.  
  
On the upside though, Ascension 1 was on Saturday! Yay! That means that just one more episode, the last episode, to go. Last episode? Noooooooo! I love X-Men: Evolution, why did they have to go and do stupid things like that?  
  
I'm going to go cry now. Make me feel better and review. And for more Amyro goodness, go visit my website, Burning Souls. Please? I'll be your best friend! Anyway, this chapter is for all those who love X-Men: Evolution, Amyro, and anything else. I won't name names. You know who you are.  
  
**In The Dreaming**  
  
_Chapter Six: Lost in Darkness_  
  
_The darkness around Amara appears to be almost liquid. The inky blackness is so thick that Amara cannot see more than five centimetres beyond her fiery form.  
  
Amara is beginning to tire. The strain of keeping up her fire in an attempt to stave off the darkness is taking its toll on her.  
  
She cannot keep this up forever.  
  
Soon she will lose the last of her strength.  
  
And then the darkness will claim her.  
_  
X X X  
  
Hank rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hm."  
  
"Is that a good 'hm' or a bad 'hm'?"  
  
Hank looked at Bobby, who was standing next to him, waiting to refreeze Amara's bed.  
  
She had not changed at all in the past few hours. She was still burning with the same intensity that she had been since she had started, and no one had been able to get near her.  
  
There had been several attempts - from Logan, Bobby and Jean - but nothing had been remotely successful.  
  
And so all they had been doing was making sure that Amara did not cause any damage to any of the other students, or to any of the building.  
  
Damage to Amara could not be assessed due to the nature of her condition.  
  
"It's a neutral 'hm'," said Hank, in response to Bobby's question. "I hate to say this, but there is nothing I can do. All I can do now is hope that this phase will pass, and then we can actually do something. I just-" Hank stopped in mid-sentence. "Yes?" he asked noone in particular. "Of course, Charles. Someone else with similar powers is also sick?" Hank paused, waiting for Xavier to speak to him mentally. "But who is it? Can't you tell - of course. How soon will they be here?" Hank nodded, thoughtful. "All right. Just send them down when they arrive."  
  
"What did Professor Xavier want?" asked Bobby, when the conversation was over.  
  
"To tell me that another mutant with similar powers and symptoms is on there way here. He picked them up when he did a mind-scan with Cerebro. He was hoping to pick up on anything unusual with Cerebro."  
  
"Sounds like he did," said Bobby. "Who is this mutant, anyway?"  
  
Hank shook his head. "That's the thing. He wouldn't say anything. Except that the mutant's power is a form of fire."  
  
"That was all?"  
  
"That was all."  
  
"How soon will they be here?" asked Bobby.  
  
"Five minutes," replied Hank. "Come on, Bobby. You can give me a hand with some of this equipment. We need to make up a bed for our new patient."  
  
"Is the mutant on fire, too?"  
  
"No," said Hank. "Professor Xavier made sure to tell me that. We just need a regular bed for this one."  
  
X X X  
  
_He can smell fire. Something is burning. But in all his years, he has never smelt anything that smells quite like this. Although he is certain that he has never smelt this exact smell, it somehow smells familiar. Like he has been smelling it every day of his life, but has not realised it somehow.  
  
He takes a step forward. And almost stumbles. It is as if he is a child again, learning how to walk again. Or as if his body has been controlled by somebody else, and he has only now regained control of it, and due to it being out of his control for so long, he has to relearn everything.  
  
Startled, he realises that the pain is gone. His head feels clear.  
  
And although he has his feet firmly on the ground, his body feels light, lighter than air, as if he is almost floating.  
  
Stepping forward cautiously, as he does not know where he is, he moves forward in any direction. He has no way of knowing where he is, nor where he is going. He just knows that he has to go somewhere.  
  
He stops, sensing something out there in the darkness. It is coming from the same direction as the smell of fire. It feels like fire, but like the smell, it has a strangely familiar sense to it.  
  
Not knowing what else to do, he heads towards it.  
  
_ X X X  
  
The sounds of a fight occurring above them stopped Hank and Bobby in their preparations for the new mutant's arrival.  
  
"What the-" began Hank, but he was cut off by what sounded like a series of small explosions.  
  
"Tabitha." There was no need for Bobby to say more.  
  
BAMPF! "Look, guys, there's a little problem with this mutant," said Kurt as soon as he teleported into the infirmary. "You see, he's not quite like us. He's-" The sound of more explosions cut Kurt off. "Well, this mutant is, well, you'll recognise him when you see him, Mr McCoy," was all he said, before he teleported away.  
  
"That does not sound good," muttered Hank, but he went back to getting the bed ready.  
  
"Is that where you want him?" asked a sudden voice. "Good." Something blurred in front of Hank, and the next thing Hank knew, there was a teenage male lying unconscious on the bed.  
  
"Hello, Pietro," Hank said, his voice colder than Bobby had ever heard it - and of all the adults he knew, Hank was the most easy-going. "I take it this is the patient."  
  
Pietro, who was standing a safe distance from Hank, with the bed between them, nodded. "This is him. Pyro. He works for -"  
  
Hank cut him off. "I remember him."  
  
"Look," said Pietro. "Professor X said that you had to help him. So help John, all right?"  
  
Hank sighed, and looked down at the unconscious John. "Okay," he said finally. "Was he like this when you found him?"  
  
Pietro shook his head. "No. He was complaining if a headache. But about a week ago, he had this really bad flu. He was asleep almost all the time."  
  
Hank managed to contain his surprise. Bobby, on the other hand, could not.  
  
"That was just like Amara right before this happened!"  
  
Hank nodded. "I know. And I have no doubt that these two cases are connected." He looked back over his shoulder at Amara, whose flames flickered slightly, as if they were about to go out. Turning back to John, he added, "The question is. . . how."  
  
X X X  
  
_John has been walking for sometime now, but for all he knows, he has been going nowhere.  
  
But instinct drives him, pushing him forwards through the darkness that surrounds him. Somehow he knows that he cannot stop, and for that reason he continues.  
  
The strange feeling he has, the sensing of fire, is growing stronger. It is calling to him, drawing him closer and closer, even though he cannot see anything in front of him.  
  
And suddenly the darkness opens up in front of him, revealing the most amazing sight in front of him. A living, breathing flame, in the form of a girl. She has her back to him, but at the sound if his footsteps, she turns, revealing the face of the girl who has been haunting in his dreams.  
  
Her eyes burn with recognition. "John? Is it really you?" She reaches out her hands, and changes from the living flame to that of a normal girl. She is definitely the girl that John had seen during his fevered dreams.  
  
Beyond all will, beyond all reason, John finds himself walking towards her, wanting to touch her, take her in his arms and hold her, make sure she is real, and not just another vision brought on by fever.  
  
She, too, walks towards him, hands outstretched, crossing the darkness which is like liquid, threatening to swallow her up.  
  
Their fingers brush. . .  
  
. . . and then tendrils of darkness reach out from the ground, wind their way around her legs, twining like vines around her body, swallowing her up in darkness and night.  
  
She reaches out, in a futile gesture, and John races forward to try and grab her. For a moment it appears that he has her, but then the darkness moves underneath his fingers, breaking his grip on her.  
  
"John!" she screams, a heart-wrenching, soul-destroying scream.  
  
And then she is gone. Swallowed up by the darkness.  
  
And John is alone once more._


	7. Screams and Whispers

**Regina:** I would just like to say thank you to all of those people who reviewed, showing their concern for Amara, and in particular those who have put me on their favourite author list, and/or their author alert list. And those who have put In the Dreaming, and my other Amyro fics on their favourite stories list. There are too many of you to thank, but you know who you are, and I would thank each and everyone of you if I could. In fact, I would like to thank everyone who likes Amyro, whether they read my stories or not (although they won't know it, as they will have not read this!). The reason that I say that, is that I got a few very negative entries in the guestbook of my Amyro website, Burning Souls, telling me how stupid Amyro was, as the two have never met in the actual series. But who cares? Isn't that what Amyro is all about? Taking something that never happened, and making something great out of it? Isn't that what all fanfiction is about? Things that never happened, but we would like to see, and is great anyway? For example, did the X-Men and co. ever meet themselves as the opposite gender (or in Pyro's case, the same gender. That was just for laughs, I was not suggesting anything!)? No! But was it funny? Heck, yeah! Or were the 150-odd reviews that story has received just in my imagination? Don't think so!  
  
So there's an age difference between John and Amara. What about Rogue and Logan (Rogan)? Or Logan and anybody? This person was ranting about how disgusting this was (John and Amara, not Logan and anybody), amongst other things. Like how Amara and John have completely opposite personalities - he's a psycho, and she's a spoiled princess. Heard of opposites attract? And then this person went on to rant about how Evo John is so completely different from his comic version - saying that he's a creative and caring individual. Hello? What do you think I have made him in my stories? Creative, caring - with just a touch of psycho. Hey, that actually describes me - creative: I write stories; caring: I work with small children just for the joy of it. I don't get paid for it; just a touch of psycho: I like to see things burn - just so long as it is contained, and is not hurting anybody. After some of the things people have done to me, I would never want to hurt them with fire - somebody tried to set my hair on fire, and that is so not fun! And then came the last argument any anti- Amyroists (is that really a word? If so, I created it! You are all witnesses!) use - just because she is fire, and he controls fire, they automatically should be a couple?! I cannot speak for other Amyro authors (I guess I could say Amyroists), but I have never used that idea as the basis of my stories. I believe that the fact that she is fire and John can control it may result in an attraction between those two (particularly on John's behalf) but that does not mean that they should get together. Fire, to John and Amara, may just be that initial attraction between the two of them, just like two people who both like, I don't know, skiing. It gives them a common interest, from which anything can develop - or not develop, whatever the case may be.  
  
I am sorry for that rant, but I had to get that off my chest. I will not mention the name of the main anti-Amyroist, but I will say that they are a Jonda fan. Not that I mind them being that - they can be whatever they want, so long as they don't judge me. Any coupling can be good (except for a few gross ones) as long as they are well written, and are not offensive. I just hope that other people can accept that I am an independent person, and I am entitled to my own beliefs - and that happens to be Amyroism. If you are an Amyroist (or I guess, the technical term, which has slipped my mind until now, would be an Amyro shipper) you can come and get a good dose of Amyro at my site, Burning Souls, which is also a shrine to John and Amara, (two of my favourite characters) by going to the address We at Burning Souls are always on the lookout for all fanworks Amyro-related, especially fan art, which it is particularly lacking. I also feel I should recommend the only other Amyro site I know of, apart from Burning Souls (if I do not know of any other Amyro sites, please let me know. I really would like to link to your site!), the Amyro Archives. A link to it can be found on my site, as I cannot remember the link off the top of my head.  
  
Now what was I here for? Ah hah! I remember! In all my ranting, I completely forgot! Here is the next chapter for In the Dreaming!  
  
And once again, I am sorry for taking up so much of your time with this rant. Please forgive me.  
  
** In The Dreaming**  
  
_Chapter Seven: Screams and Whispers_  
  
_"No!" shouts John. "Amara!"  
  
The name fills his mind, as everything he has experienced in the last few days comes rushing back. He remembers now who this girl is, what she could do, and most importantly, what she means to him.  
  
And how much it hurts him now that she is gone. He has lost her - forever, it seems.  
  
He sinks to his knees, the gravity of what has just happened weighing him down so that he cannot stand. Each heartbeat adds to the sorrow.  
  
He knows that this cannot be, as he never really knew her, that this is just a dream - or nightmare - but something inside him tells him - is screaming at him - that she is more important to him than anything else. That he is nothing without her.  
  
John can understand why. A girl of her power. . . a girl of living flame. . . perhaps even a living fire goddess. . . it all made sense in a strange way.  
  
But it was more than just her power that drew him to her, and her to him. It ran much deeper, a vein of power and life that connected them, a cord that could never be broken.  
  
But right now, it appears that such a cord has been cut, or even worse, it never existed.  
  
John slams an angry fist down onto the black ground, which has taken Amara from him.  
  
"Give her back!" he shouts angrily. "I - I - just give her back!" He slams his fist down once more.  
  
And where his fist makes contact, a light so bright it hurts to look at it explodes from the darkness. John tries to cover his eyes, but it is futile. The light shines through him, illuminating every bit of him, and revealing things about him that even he does not even know exist.  
  
But it is all over too quickly, because as the light grows brighter, his body begins to dissolve, falling to pieces, and the light hurls him out of the darkness, and into the world of the waking.  
  
_ X X X  
  
John's eyes flew open, and he sat up, gasping for breath. "It was just a dream, she's not real, it didn't happen."  
  
"Whoa, there," said a deep voice. "Don't sit up so fast. You're sick. Lie back down." When John didn't move, two strong hands pushed him back down onto the bed. "Calm down," added the voice. "Tell us what happened."  
  
The image in front of John's eyes sharpened, and he saw a giant blue - man? - looking down at him.  
  
"What the heck is going on here?!" demanded John. "And who the heck are you? And where the heck am I?"  
  
"You're at the Xavier Institute."  
  
"Pietro? What the heck are you doing here? Why the heck are we at the X- Men's place? What the heck -"  
  
"Stop saying 'what the heck'!" Bobby interrupted suddenly. "You're here because he brought you here, and Tabitha made him bring you here because of her!" He pointed in the direction of the bed next to John, which, until then, John had not seen.  
  
John looked in the direction Bobby was pointing at. His eyes widened with shock, and his face went pale.  
  
"What?" asked Pietro. "What is it?"  
  
"It's her," John whispered, getting up from the bed. "The girl from my dreams. The girl of my dreams."  
  
"She's not on fire anymore," Pietro said, his voice strangled, realising that she had stopped burning at the same time John had woken up - perhaps only a few moments earlier, at the most. Then he blinked. "The girl from your what?"  
  
"My dreams," replied John, his voice hushed, as if in awe. He took a few hesitant steps over towards the bed, and continued to stare at the unconscious Amara.  
  
"What the heck is going on here?" Bobby muttered to Hank.  
  
"I don't know," Hank replied truthfully. "But perhaps he is the only one who can help her."  
  
"How?" asked Pietro, just as confused as the other two.  
  
"He has seen her in his dreams, long before he saw her in real life. And the fact he has experienced the same symptoms as her may mean that their conditions are linked."  
  
"Well, I don't care what you say," Pietro said, eyeing John, who was gazing with an almost rapt expression at Amara, who for all appearances could have been sleeping. "This is not right." He sped across the distance that separated him from his friend, and grabbed his arm. "Look, John," he told him as he spun him around to face him, "this is crazy. I don't know what you think you are doing, but this has got to stop. You're better now, and that's the only reason I brought you here. Not so you can stare at some girl who thinks she's Sleeping Beauty."  
  
"Not some girl," replied John. "Amara."  
  
It was Pietro's eyes turn to widen. No one had ever mentioned Amara's name to John.  
  
The few times her name had been mentioned, he had been unconscious, or out of the room, or both. And this was the first time he had seen her, so even if he had heard the name somewhere, he could not have linked it with her face.  
  
Yet here he was, knowing what she looked like and what her name was.  
  
Through his dreams, he had claimed. But it was just not possible.  
  
Was it?  
  
X X X  
  
_Amara is beyond feeling now. It is as if her body is encased in a block of ice, her mind suspended in time. She does not know where she is, nor does she know who she is.  
  
She knows only one thing.  
  
That something is there, stalking the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.  
  
And when that time comes, she will not be able to do anything about it. Because something has been draining her of her power, sapping her of her strength.  
  
That is why she is here, although she does not know it.  
  
The one who lured her into this shadow realm has another, darker purpose in store for her yet. But the process has already begun.  
  
Before long, she will be nothing more than a ghost trapped in a hollow shell, haunting the small confines of this dark space.  
  
For as the monster drains her of her power, he is also stealing her soul.  
  
Unless he can be stopped.  
_  
X X X  
  
His hand shook as he reached out and touched her hair gently. He knew, right then, that this was no dream, and that he had to do something. He owed it to her, for not being able to save her before, when he had let her go. His mind knew that it had not been his fault, that he had tried his best, but his heart. . . it saw things differently.  
  
As he stared at her, it was like he was two different people.  
  
His mind saw the unconscious Amara, felt pity for her, wished that there was something he could do to help her, but that was all. She was not the most important thing in the world.  
  
But then his heart would beat even faster, telling him something quite different to what his mind was saying. _It's her, don't you recognise her?_ it whispered to him. _Don't you realise it? She's the one! The one we've been waiting for! Don't let her go!  
_  
And John, as much as he regretted it, listened to his heart, at its persistent whisper that would eat away at him for eternity if he tried to ignore it.  
  
John had forgotten the presence of Bobby, Hank, and his friend Pietro. All he saw before him was Amara, the girl who, if he did not act soon, was going to disappear, and fade away into darkness.  
  
He could not let that happen. He would never be able to forgive himself, be able to live if he let her slip away once more.  
  
Staring into that gentle face, John moved his hand away from her hair, and gently, hesitantly, touched her cheek. The skin beneath his fingers felt like ice, surprising, as she had been on fire only a few minutes ago.  
  
He had very little time, and each second that passed meant it was going to be a thousand times harder to bring her back.  
  
_But what to do?_ he thought as he took one of Amara's lifeless hands in his own.  
  
Although he had no idea how exactly to save her, he knew that there was something he could do, no, had to do.  
  
Holding Amara's hand clutched close to his chest with one hand, he carefully brushed a strand of hair away from her face with the other. His manner was surprisingly gentle, considering who he was, and his usual behaviour. Amara had seemed to touch something inside him, bringing a part of him that before had been buried deep inside to the surface.  
  
She had brought to life an entirely different John - perhaps better, perhaps worse.  
  
Not even John knew.  
  
But he knew what he had to do. And so he did it.  
  
And like a prince from a fairytale, he leaned down, and gently kissed the lips of his sleeping princess.  
  
But unlike the fairytales, Amara did not wake up.  
  
Instead John fell to the floor. It was as if it happened in slow motion, and before anyone else knew it, he had fallen asleep once again.  
  
Except this time, he had Amara's hand clasped tightly in his own.  
  
And nothing was going to make him let go this time. 


	8. Kiss of Ice, End by Fire

**Regina:** Yes, I am still alive, in case any of you were wondering. I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while. It's just that there was school, and then I went to Germany, and then everything got screwed up by my being away for three weeks. But on the upside, I did have fun, and I ate lots of yummy foods! Another downside, I did not see any blue fuzzy dudes. Damn it. And I missed an expo which had Chris Claremont as a guest. Damn it even more.

Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this new chapter. Show me how much you enjoy it by reviewing!

In The Dreaming

_Chapter Eight: Kiss of Ice, End by Fire_

_John is once again in the world of darkness. But it has changed dramatically in the short time since he had last been there. Any warmth that had once been there has instead been replaced by a chill that hung in the air. He watches, wide-eyed, as his breath freezes in front of his face._

_But he ignores this startling change, his mind focused on one thing, and one thing only._

_There is only one thing he can think of, and it is the one thing that has been plaguing his thoughts for so long, he can barely remember life without it._

"_Amara!"_

_There is no reply, but John is not going to give up that easily. He is going to try his hardest to get Amara back, the girl who has caused such an amazing change within him, and although he barely knows her, he knows that he has to have her in his life._

_It would be no life without her. One he feels he would not be able to live._

_And so that leaves him with only one choice, one decision which he does not question, one act he does not hesitate to commit._

_His voice fills the darkness, and it almost ripples with the inferno of emotions. _

"_Amara. I'm coming."_

_X X X_

"_So. . . cold."_

_Amara can see nothing, feel nothing except darkness and ice. She is still encased in the mysterious power that stole her away from the world of light and fire - the world in which she belongs. _

_She screams once as lightning pain passes through her body, feeling as if every nerve is being frozen, her body becoming ice from the inside ice. Desperately, she thinks of everything that she is made of: fire, heat, lava, love. But it is to no avail. The relief is fleeting, and Amara's head drops onto her chest. She cannot stand one more of the darkness' attacks. _

_She is defeated. _

_The darkness has won, and soon it will claim its prize._

"_John. . ."_

_X X X_

_Never before in his life has he been so cold. Never has he felt so alone, so desperate._

_But never before has he felt love quite like this. Or even love at all. _

_The love that can move mountains, dry up oceans, melt glaciers. . . John feels as if he will do all of these things for Amara, to save her, to see her smile._

_The strangest thought occurs to him. For a man ruled by the power and glory of fire, he was quite cold. He lived a glacial existence, his heart made of the bluest ice that has never seen the sun, never felt its warm rays touch its surface._

_But now the light of Amara's smile has touched his skin, melted away the ice in his heart, leaving a blazing inferno in its place. He will burn everything in his path if it means freeing her from this prison. _

_A cold wind blasts him, bringing him to a stop. A voice echoes in his head. It is everything that is this world. It is the darkness of a moonless night, the cold of an arctic wind. It is the voice of nightmares._

Do you think you can save her?

_The voice is like a knife, plunged deep into John's brain. But as strong as the pain is, he refuses to give in. Although unstable, John stays on his feet._

I asked you a question.

"_I will save her!" John answers, yelling at nothing, yet at the same time everything._

Can you, really? She cannot even save herself.

_John grits his teeth, but says nothing._

You think that I am lying. See for yourself.

_The darkness parts, revealing Amara, suspended in the air in front of John. At first, John is so elated that he runs to her, not seeing everything. Then he stops._

"_What have you done?!"_

What is necessary. Nothing more. Nothing less.

_Amara is exactly as John remembers her, except that her dress in black, and she is covered in ice, beginning at her feet, and reaching to just under her arms. As John watches, the ice advances another centimetre._

Fire is life. Surely you know that. Even the darkness needs to live.

"_Then why do you have her?!" John does not question the fact that he is talking - no, yelling - at nothing but darkness. "Give her back!"_

What do you think I have been feeding on?

_John's heart stops beating._

Fire is life. . . ice is death. I am ice, she is fire. But not for much longer. Soon I will be fire. . .

"_No!"_

. . . and she will be ice.

_With each passing second, the voice has been growing stronger. The air, too, has been growing warmer._

_Is this because the darkness, this thing which has been draining Amara's power to help itself, has been growing stronger, feeding on living fire, which it regards as life?_

_John does not know._

Soon I will be free from this prison. So long have I waited, trapped here. So long have I waited here, waiting for the one thing that can free me. And now I have her, and she is giving me life.

_The ice grows even further. Has it reached her heart? John wonders._

But I am not cold as ice any more. I will grant you one last thing.

_John watches in wonder as the ice begins to recede. _

I will let you say goodbye. Before the end.

_Amara's eyes flutter open. "John?" she whispers, almost not believing what she is seeing. "Is it really you? Not another trick?"_

_Hope fills John with warmth. She is still alive. For now. _

_He crosses the last of the space that separates the two of them, and takes her hands. They are like ice, almost painful to the touch. But he endures the pain, knowing that if it was like this for him, he would not be able to imagine the agony and torment that she was suffering. And all because this. . . thing. . . was draining her of all her powers._

_And the reason Amara had been chosen was because of her mutant abilities. The same abilities that had drawn John to her, or so he thought then._

_The power of fire. The power of life. Which is what made her so powerful, and amazing in John's eyes. The power that linked them in a way that no one else would be able to contemplate, let alone understand. _

_Their powers. . . the power of fire. . . that was what _it _wanted._

_John knows what he has to do._

"_Take me instead," he tells the darkness. "Take me in her place."_

_Silence._

"_Let her go, and take me instead!" John shouts, his voice echoing, as though they were in a small space. "Can you hear me?!"_

I can hear you. But it is just not possible.

"_Why not?!"_

There is no need to shout. It is not feasible that I use you instead of her. I had considered you in the beginning, until I realised that I would never be able to free myself if I drained you.

_John feels anger build up even more as he feels Amara struggle to take a breath, but he says nothing._

You were the first one I found. The first one with the connection to fire. But then I learned that you could only control it, not create it. But then I found her.

_There was something almost affectionate in the voice. For the first time it had shown a sign of being more than an inanimate _thing

_Amara's hands grow even colder, and her eyes, too, grow darker. John knows he has very little time left._

_But what to do?_

The little fire goddess, the one who is life in every way. She was the key. But I needed you to bring her to me.

_The voice stops talking about itself and how it found Amara._

But that is irrelevant now. You must say goodbye now.

"_John. . ." Amara whispers, her voice so quiet John has to strain to hear it. "I love you. Goodbye. . ."_

_He grips her hands even more tightly. "This is not goodbye, do you hear me?" he tells her firmly, staring directly into her dull eyes. "We can fight this!"_

"_I can't. I'm too tired. Let me sleep. . ." She smiles fleetingly. "I'll dream, and we can be together. Forever. Kiss me goodnight, John. . . please."_

_John does not have the heart to refuse her. Her lips are like ice as his touch hers, and the tears have turned to ice, caught in her lashes._

_A sudden warmth fills his hands, while a sudden rush of ice fills every other part of his body. He pulls away in shock to see Amara suspended in front of him, deathly still._

_The ice which she has been encased in increases, claiming the last of its prize. Warm tears travel down John's cheeks as he realises what has just happened._

It has ended. Now I will be free!

_John stands still as a statue, almost disbelieving. Amara is gone forever. Nothing can bring her back._

_The warmth in his hands is still there, and he looks down. There, on his palms, are two tiny flames: Amara's last gift._

_He turns away from Amara's frozen body and extends his hands. Never before has he felt such purpose, never before has he needed to do something so strongly._

"_You will pay for this!" he shouts as he summons reserves of power that he never thought he could posses._

_Fire explodes from his hands in a way not even he has experienced before, consuming everything around him, save Amara. _

_If the one thing he loved was dead, then he would destroy the thing that had taken her life._

_Even if it meant destroying himself._

_The world continued to burn._


	9. A Tale of More Woe

**Regina:** I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry! I wish that didn't have to happen, but it did! Please don't kill me! If you do (he he, you would have to find me first!) you won't get to read the final chapter. Yep, there is only one more chapter after this - at least, there should be only one more chapter. But this story has not gone according to plan. None of this was supposed to happen. It just did. I'll explain more about what was supposed to happen at the end of the story. Which is one chapter (I hope) away. And I should post that very soon. I hope. I also hope to get a lot of reviews (hint, hint!) and lots of entries in the guestbook of my Amyro website (also a big hint!).

If you know of any good Amyro stories/poems/art, drop me a line, especially if you have some of your own to showcase. Burning Souls (the site, duh) is looking kind of bare, as it only has my stories, one of my poems, and no fan art (I can't draw. At all!). I have had two wonderful poetry submissions, though, so I guess that's a start. Hopefully you guys can help continue the trend. Maybe, if I devote the time I normally write my stories to looking for Amyro stuff, my site could be much more filled-out. But then, I would not be writing. At all.

Your choice, people.

In The Dreaming

_Chapter Nine: A Tale of More Woe_

_The blaze consumes everything around the two mutants, a fiery inferno of love, sorrow and anger. Because of the shapeless darkness without a name, the one person John has ever loved has been taken from him. The light of his life has been extinguished, and now he has nothing to live for._

_Without Amara, he has no purpose, no reason to be here._

_And so he shall join his Juliet, but not before destroying the darkness that has destroyed him. Then, and only then, will he let himself go._

"_Amara!" he cries, his heart and lungs burning, not by the flames, but with the agony and grief that is tearing him apart. Every second that passes causes the flames to grow, extending out into the darkness. Somewhere out there is the key to defeating the darkness, and somehow he will avenge his loss._

_It is not a happy thought, but it provides him with enough comfort to focus on the task ahead._

I am sorry, but this is the way it has to be. It was the only way.

_The voice infuriates John even more. It has taken Amara away, snuffed out her candle before it was time, and now it says that it is _sorry

_This is too much for John to take._

"_Amara!" Once more he cries out her name, even though she is beyond hearing. But he is beyond caring. He is above it all, as he loses control of himself and his powers._

_For the first time since he discovered the gift that ultimately brought him his greatest happiness and his greatest sorrow, does his powers separate from him. _

_He does not feel as, for the first time in his memory, the fire skims along his body, leaving a red trail that shines along his skin. For the first time the fire which he loves almost as much as he loved Amara burns into him._

_But he does not care._

_He just wants it all to end._

_And so he lets the flames continue their painful caress all over his body, as he draws the pain into him, and in it, he finds strength._

_Strength enough to do what he knows must be done._

I know what you are thinking. And I cannot let you destroy me. Not after all I have managed to achieve.

_The fire grows, and John's body is burning even more, cocooned in the painful bliss that the fire brings._

I know what to do.

_Black mists the colour of the darkest sky appear in every corner of the small space in which John is confined. They join together, swirling like a small tornado, as they grow in size, and swiftly they begin to take a form that is not unfamiliar to John._

"Don't destroy me."

_Caught surprised by the figure's words, the flames surrounding John flicker, as his heart beats faster and faster._

_He knows, better than anyone else alive, those lips which spoke those words. He knows every curve, every line, having traced them, and having kissed those lips until he felt as if his own would bleed, though he did not care._

_Dare he hope that this is real?_

"You can't destroy me."

_He knows how soft the skin around those lips is, and how the hair that falls against that skin feels like silk. He had run his fingers through that hair many times, reveling in the way it felt._

_Dare he hope that this is real?_

"Please don't destroy me."

_But as much as his heart flutters with hope, he knows that this is not real._

_The Amara that stands before him is a shade, a shadow, a mere ghost of everything that he knows and loves._

_It is as if she is made of shiny black obsidian, a mirror of darkness, reflecting everything that was not Amara. This _thing _may have looked exactly like her down to the smallest detail, but it was not her. _

"I love you."

"_Liar!" shouts John, and with a roar the fire rises up again, and suddenly, John feels the pain that has been delayed for so long. A cry of pain wells up inside him, and forces its way out of his body._

_The false Amara laughs, its obsidian lips twisted in a mocking version of Amara's own beautiful smile, contorting her lovely features into an ugly mask._

"Yes, John. Just let it end. And it will be all over. Finally."

_It is so tempting._

"Let go, John, and you will be with Amara."

_Amara._

"I promise. You will be together. Forever."

_And then it laughs with Amara's voice, but it is the horrible sound John has ever heard._

_And in that moment, it seal its fate._

_His body on fire, the flames so hot that they are almost melting the flesh off his bones, _

_John steps away from the real body of Amara, and towards the impostor._

"What are you doing?"

"_She's dead," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm dead." He continues to walk forwards, until he is so close to the impostor he can reach out and touch its false form._

"John!" _The voice is identical to Amara's, and it is scared._

"_And now. . . you're dead!" John roars, and grabs hold of the figure's shoulders._

"Nooooooo!"

_John's flaming fingers burn into the impostor's body. It writhes and shrieks with pain as the flames travel from John's body and into its own._

"_You wanted fire! So take it!" John shouts into its ears, but it is deaf due to its own screams._

_The false form of Amara that it has been using begins to melt, as if it was liquid glass as black as jet. But still John holds on._

_The liquid glass begins to smoke, black mist rising from the pool at John's feet. The mist expands as the pool shrinks, its gaseous form reaching out to Amara's body, still encased in ice, as if it still has something left for it to claim._

_But John cannot allow it._

"_Amara!"_

_Her name gives him the strength to do this one last thing. His body cannot last more than a few seconds, as it is still enveloped in fire. But he still has the merest whisper of the flames that Amara gave him, the flame that was her love for him, a light to guide him._

_A love so great that it cannot be confined, and reaches out to touch everything._

_Just like the flames that explode from his heart._

_The mist screams in the most horrifying sound as the flames consume it. It is inhuman, and it reverberates through every particle in John's body._

_And then it is gone._

_And this time, John knows, it is gone for good. Never to harm another living soul again._

_But it is a Pyrrhic victory, as John sees ahead of him the suspended form of Amara._

_The ice melts away, and she falls to earth._

_Somehow, John does not know, nor does he care, John manages to catch her, and holds her close._

"_I'm sorry," he whispers, even though he knows that she cannot hear him. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."_

_He gently lays her body down on the ground, brushes a lock of hair from off of her face, and traces the curves of her lips, before kissing them gently. She is no longer as cold as ice, but that does not matter._

_He will be with her soon._

_A small smile on his face, and tears in his eyes, John takes hold of her hand, and holds it close to his heart as he lies down at her side._

_And closes his eyes._


	10. In The Waking

**Regina:** Well, I am just going to keep this intro short, because I'll do my big explanation thing after this chapter. My prediction that this would be the last chapter was right!

In The Dreaming

_Chapter Ten: In the Waking_

"Can't you do something? Anything?"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot. It's impossible."

"It can't be! It's Amara we're talking about! You have to help her!"

"I'm sorry, but -"

"Look!"

"Don't touch him! We don't know what might happen if we break their contact!"

"It's too late. She's gone."

"John! He's alive!"

Slowly, reluctantly, John opened his eyes. He could not see for the tears that clouded his vision.

He blinked, and they streamed down his cheeks. It was so unfair. He thought he had died, wanted to die. . . but was still alive, while Amara was dead, lost to the shadows of the realm of nightmare.

"I couldn't save her," John said, rising from the floor. No one made a move to stop him.

"I tried my best, but it wasn't enough. I just couldn't. . ." John trailed off, looking down at

Amara's still form. He still had not let go of her hand. Throughout the battle in the dream world, he had not loosened his grip on her in the real world. No matter what had happened.

Tabitha sank to her knees. "No. . . it can't be. . ."

But in her heart she knew it was true, as John laid a gentle kiss on Amara's forehead. Her skin was warm, as it should have been. At least he had restored that to her, given her that one thing.

A normal semblance of death, if not a normal death itself.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry. . . for all of this."

Strangely enough it was Pietro who laid a hand on John's shoulder in a comforting gesture. His eyes were serious as he said, "At least you were with her at the end."

As Bobby helped Tabitha to her feet, she added, "She would have wanted that. She wasn't alone, at least."

John looked around. The eyes of all of those he had considered to be his enemies, and the eyes of his one friend in the room, were wet. The loss of Amara had touched them all, and

John knew that at least it wasn't just his heart that was aching with loss.

As one, or perhaps guided by Professor Xavier's telepathic suggestion, everyone left the room, leaving John alone with the body of the girl he had loved, and still did.

John stood there in silence for some time, not knowing what to say, or even if he wanted to say anything.

There were no words that could say everything, or anything.

No words that could convey the sorrow, and the loss.

Just as there had been no words that could have conveyed the love.

Except, perhaps, one thing.

"I love you," he whispered, although there was no need to. He blinked, for there was a single tear drop that obscured his vision of Amara. It fell, landing on the back of John's hand, which lay gently over hers.

"_And I love you."_

John looked around for the source of the voice. It was impossible, he knew it, but he knew that the voice belonged to Amara even more than he knew it was impossible for him to hear it.

After all, the Amara whose hand he still had not let go had not moved.

But still, he looked down at her, to make sure that it was not her.

He was right. It was not her.

And yet, he still continued to hear her voice.

"_I love you, John. I love you, John. . . I love you. . . John. . . John. . . I love you. . ."_

The voice echoed and echoed, until John was uncertain of where it was coming from: Amara; his mind; somewhere else in the room.

And then the echoes stopped, and only one sound could be heard.

"_I'm here, John."_

John looked up to find himself staring into a pair of gentle brown eyes.

Amara's eyes.

John looked down, to see Amara still lying there, unmoving.

But how?

The eyes that were watching him had one difference from those of the real Amara. They were shining with light, as was the rest of her, with a light so pure that it was almost unnatural.

His heart aching even more, John was painfully reminded of the false Amara, the one who appeared to be made of glassy obsidian.

But as that Amara was made of made of shadows and black glass, this one was made of light and crystal, shining with a love that not even death could conquer.

This was the true Amara, a being made of light and love, returned only for the one she loved.

"But. . . how?" asked John, his heart caught in his throat, making it difficult for me.

Amara smiled at him, making her radiate with light even more than before. _"Because of you. I saw what you did back there."_

"You did?"

Amara nodded, still smiling. _"I saw it all. But I could not let you die. Would you really have died for me?"_

"For you and to be with you." John looked down at her body. "I wish I were dead now."

"_I cannot let you - I love you too much." _Amara's eyes were shining with tears that reminded John of diamonds. _"Answer me this: Do you love me?"_

"What kind of question is that?"

"_Do you love me?"_ she pressed.

"I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, or thought I ever could."

Amara smiled. _"Then kiss me."_

This time John did not hesitate. Leaning over the bed, John kissed the Amara made of light, and as he did so, he heard a voice that was the complete opposite of the voice that had killed Amara, and that he had destroyed.

_To live is to love, and to love, and be loved, is to live._

John's heart soared as he reveled in this second chance to be with his love.

But then it fell swiftly, tumbling down through the heavens as Amara began to fade away, and out of existence.

He sank to his knees, sobbing. How could he have lost her again?

"Amara. . ."

A voice, tired and weak, cut through his sorrow. "John."

He did not listen to it; he could not live through losing her for a third time.

The voice grew stronger, more insistent. "John!"

The hand that John had been clutching tightly to his chest breaks free from his grip of its own accord, and caused him to look up.

Amara peered over the bed at him, her eyes shining with tears, real tears that belong in the world of the waking.

"You did it!" Her voice was a triumphant whisper. "You saved me!"

John struggled to laugh, but managed it eventually, as he leapt to his feet, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She did the same, throwing her arms joyfully around his neck.

He pulled away. "But. . . how?"

She smiled. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does," he insisted. "What happened?"

"I don't know. One minute I was in darkness, the next thing I heard this voice guiding me. . . yours." Amara could not stop smiling. "I love you!"

"And I love you!"

Moving as one, they touched their lips together for their first real kiss in the real world, and did not break it even when the doors of the infirmary burst open.

X X X

It was well after midnight, and everyone had gone to bed, exhausted from the day's events, when John led Amara out of the building.

"You can stay, you know," Amara told him for what must have been the hundredth time. "We'd love to have you."

John shook his head. "Not. . . right now. Later. We're two different people on two very different sides."

"Than doesn't matter to me!"

"It does to everybody else, Amara. I'm sorry, but you know it's true."

Amara looked down. She knew it was true.

"Amara, look." John pulled out his lighter, but Amara stopped him.

"No. Let me," she said, smiling although she was crying.

Hesitating at the sight of the flame in Amara's hand, John did not know what to do.

But then, seeing the love and trust in Amara's eyes, he made up his mind.

The flame floated through the air, forming two figures, one of them in a long dress that swirled as its partner twirled it in their musicless dance.

"They're so beautiful," Amara whispered.

John smiled, taking both joy and pain from the way Amara's eyes lit up at the sight of the flames. "No. You're beautiful."

John waved a hand, and the dancers vanished, replaced by a tiny sphere of fire. Rising from it came a tendril of flame, as if the sphere were a seed.

The tendril grew, until finally a rose bud blossomed from the end, and, with Amara giving a gasp of delight, each perfect petal fanned outwards, creating a rose made entirely of flame.

"It's beautiful," Amara whispered, when John handed the rose to her; his own special gift for her.

"I'm sorry I could not give you any flowers in the real world."

"No, it's perfect the way it is. Thank you."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

When the flame-rose lost its form, Amara knew that John was gone. Although she was crying with sadness, she hummed a waltz to herself as she headed back to the mansion, knowing that it had to be, and that it was not so bad.

They knew that they could not be together, that was certain.

For the time being, at least. The world, and the people they belong with, are not ready for something like that.

But that is of little importance. Time means nothing to them.

And besides, they can be together as often as they wish. They can dance long past the time when the candles have burned down into nothing, and the rising of the sun does not mean that their night is over. For nothing can stop them being together.

In their dreams.


	11. The End

Hi there. This is a letter to all of those who have finished reading my second Amyro fic, _In the Dreaming_.

First of all, a big thank you to all of you. Thank you for reading this, and for reviewing.

If I had had no one reading and reviewing this fic, then I would not have written it.

I hoped you enjoyed the ending; I know I did. This was one of my favourite fics I have written to date, although one of the most difficult. From now on, I am going to stick to one tense throughout the entire story! (For those of you who have not noticed, the tense changes depending on what 'realm' they are in. The Dream World (which is written in italics, as well as in the present tense), or the Waking World (also known as the real world, and is written in the classic past tense format).)

Um, I don't really know what else to say, because although in some ways I knew what would happen, none of this fic has actually turned out that way. Most of what has happened in the final few chapters was nothing like what I had planned.

An example of this was that the being that in the finished version drained Amara of her powers in order to gain a form of its own. But in the original plan it already had a form, which I only had a vague idea about, but it was a form nonetheless. It was never supposed to drain Amara, and John and Amara together were to fight him together, combining their powers to destroy him (I always thought of the voice as being male - I guess that showed up in the story in 'his' affection for Amara, even though he was killing/had killed her).

The whole ice thing was also something that showed up part way through writing, although looking back on it, it makes a lot of sense, as we often associate death with cold, and cold with ice. The same goes with fire and life, which is what was said throughout the latter part of the story.

Amara was never mean to 'die', by the way, but once I got into it, it made a lot of sense in a way, so I let it stay in. Much like what happened to Jean at the end of X2 (I've been watching the commentaries on the DVD. You learn a lot - like the fact that Daniel Cudmore, the guy who played Colossus drool, is six feet eight. You also learn about characters who were also supposed to appear: Beast, Gambit and Marrow are three examples. Go on, if you've got the DVD and haven't done so, then do it. If you haven't got it, then go and buy it - the two disk special edition, not the one disk one like I got given for my birthday, which was on the first of December - not that I don't like the present, Deemma!). Where was I? Oh yeah, I did not mean to 'kill' Amara off, but it happened. Actually, I preferred to think of her as being in a form of suspended animation, you know, not alive, but not quite dead. And by having John think that she was dead made for, in my opinion, a more powerful moment. He he, and it was funny reading the reviews that were like 'Oh, no! Amara's dead! And John's going to kill himself, too!' He he. And then it looked as if John was dead. . . it was every tragedy-lover's dream - a mutant Romeo and Juliet, if you will. Oh, come on! Think about it!

Two star-crossed lovers. . . two different houses (sides). . . Shakespeare, you people!

Honestly. Some people. . .

But I must tell you that there was something that was hanging plainly in my head, and that was the fact that if one died, then the other would have to go. And vice versa. You see, I was constantly haunted by the ending of that Anime show, Shinzo, and its ending. If you don't know, then I am not going to tell you, but if you do, then you probably know what got me so upset. Oddly enough, it is usually only sad endings in Anime that make me cry, nothing else. Titanic, was a major flop for me in that respect. Good thing I didn't go and see it in the theatre, because then everyone would have been crying, while I was thinking, 'All right! Finally, Leo's dead!'. I'm sorry, Leo fans, but he just annoys me.

Oh, and don't go out of this story with some big message, as I sort of got when I was reading it. The only message I would like you to take out of it is that love is important, perhaps the most important thing in the world, because everyone needs it (I actually think Magneto and Sabertooth and a few other members of the Brotherhood are in need of a good hug. Hold on, Pyro and Toad! Regina's coming!).

Bye now, and thank you for reading _In the Dreaming_.

Love,

Regina, the Queen of Random.

P.S. If you haven't done so yet, then read my two other Amyro fics, _Trial by Fire_ (which has been completed) and _A Way with Words_, and visit my three websites: the Amyro shrine _Burning Souls_; the X-Movieverse X-Kids' site, _Mutant High_; and my own personal site, _Randomland_ (currently featuring Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger). Links to all of these can be found on my bio.


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